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En Garde-n

(Your Friendly Neighborhood Amoeba continues trying to (um) help with Quilly’s blog …)

He: “Where are you off to?”

She: “Just out to the garden. Going to get a tomato.”

He: “How?”

She: “Same way I usually do. It should be ripe enough to fall into my …”

He: “But how can you get it? Shouldn’t it be them?

She: “Oh, all right! Just for you, I’ll get two-matoes.”

He: “Worse and worse!”

She: “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret later.”

He: “Not my fault. For one thing, it’s not May, it’s October. For another, I’m not keen on toes at the dinner table, no matter what month it is. Talk about strangers in my soup …”

She: “You invited lawyers for dinner?”

He: “Yep. Dressed for the occasion, too.”

She: “In briefs??

He: “Too casual. Lawsuit and tie. And they’re staying for breakfast.”

She: “And what are you fixing them for breakfast?”

He: “Pop torts. Weren’t you going to the garden?”

She: “While I still can. You know what the worst thing about this season is, don’t you?”

He: “Yeah, said the rake. Autumn leaves.”

She: “And winter follows.”

5 Comments

    1. Karen — he was talking like this tonight at the table, too. I told him I was going to stick a fork in him because he was DONE.

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